Homecoming
by Violet Parma
Summary: On his first night in the Wizard Tower as the ExtraOrdinary Apprentice, Septimus finds himself more nervous than he'd expected to be.


It was after midnight when the ExtraOrdinary Wizard and her new Apprentice returned in triumph to the top of the Wizard Tower, recently reclaimed from its odious inhabitant. They were both exhausted, having first made multiple stops throughout the Castle to reassure people that DomDaniel was really gone for good, and then run a gauntlet of excited Wizards inside the Tower itself. When the great purple door swung open at last, Marcia flung her cloak onto a nearby chair and looked around her sitting room, her gaze lingering lovingly on each cushion and picture and Fragile-Fairy pot that had survived the **Necromancer** 's tenure.

"It's so good to be home," she said with a contented sigh. "Even if it does reek of **Darke Magyk**. We'll be hard at work for a month putting everything to rights, I'm sure."

Septimus said nothing. He felt uncomfortable. It had been one thing to stay at Aunt Zelda's cottage, where they had all been strangers, equally out of their element, but this was Marcia's private place, and he felt like an intruder in it, even though—or perhaps because—he had spent a few terrifying hours thawing out on the sofa months before. He'd wanted to learn **Magyk** , and he still did, but he hadn't really thought about what it would mean to be Marcia's Apprentice from day to day. How was he supposed to live here alone with her, surrounded by all these fancy carpets and tables? What if he broke something? Where would he put his things? Oh, wait a minute—he didn't have any things.

 _Well, that solves that problem_ , he thought dismally.

Although Silas Heap often accused Marcia of being insensitive, she was actually rather good at reading other people's feelings when she wanted to be, and when she glanced down and saw Septimus trying to make himself as small as possible on his patch of floor, she had a fair idea of what must be wrong.

"It's your home too now, you know," she said, putting her hand on Septimus' skinny back. "Come upstairs and I'll show you your room."

Septimus brightened a bit at the idea of having his own room for the first time in his life. He followed Marcia up the stairs to a short corridor with two doors – one painted green, one purple with gold fittings – and another staircase leading up to what must be the very tip of the Wizard Tower.

Marcia stepped up to the green door, which swung open at her approach, and issued a short **Magykal** command to light the lamps on either side. Through the opening, Septimus could see a perfectly round room with dark blue walls and a vaulted ceiling. A narrow bed stood on the right side of the room; a tall cherrywood wardrobe on the left. Stale air rushed out, and Marcia and Septimus coughed almost in unison.

"It hasn't been opened in quite a while," Marcia said, somewhat muffled by the hand she had clapped over her mouth. "I lived out in the Ramblings when I was Alther's Apprentice, though looking back I don't know why, what with all the noise and rubbish and leaking ceilings I had to put up with. Anyway, I'm afraid it's a bit on the small side, but then you aren't very big, are you?"

"It's fantastic!" said Septimus. "I mean, it will be as soon as I open a window…and maybe sweep a bit…and clear away all those spider webs."

Marcia frowned. "That's strange. We've never had a spider problem in the Tower before. Oh well, it'll be a good opportunity for me to show you how to do a **Fumigation** , just as soon as you're unpacked."

"Er," said Septimus, feeling awkward all over again. "There's really nothing to unpack. Sarah—I mean Mum—said she would get some of Nicko's old clothes together for me as soon as she got home, but she and Dad are still at Keeper's Cottage, and…" He trailed off, not wanting to bring up the fact that the only reason he was back before his parents was because Marcia had insisted on leaving at the crack of dawn on the morning after the Apprentice Supper, and no one had been able to stop her.

"Tch!" Marcia sounded annoyed, and Septimus looked up at her fearfully, only to find her smiling. Though he hadn't known Marcia very long, he had learned to recognize her smile for the rare and wonderful event it was—it crinkled the bridge of her nose, put a sparkle in her eyes, and transformed her pretty but rather severe face into something splendid to behold. He gave her a tentative smile back, wondering what she was up to.

"I sent a message ahead of us," Marcia said mysteriously. "Look over there." Septimus followed her pointing finger to a shadowy corner of the landing and discovered a large wooden packing crate, pushed up against a wall as if someone had left it there and forgotten.

"Well, don't dawdle, go on and open it," Marcia said, folding her arms across her chest and fixing him with a look that somehow managed to combine impatience and amusement. Confused, Septimus dragged the crate across the flagstones and pried the top off with some effort. Directly under the lid was a mass of crinkled purple tissue paper, and under that—

"Oh _wow_ ," Septimus said, stunned.

Marcia actually laughed at that, and to Septimus's shock, went right down on her knees beside him and started pulling things out of the crate and loading them into his arms—a pair of boots in his size, three expensive-looking green tunics, a heavy matching cloak, a striped toothbrush, a copy of a book called _1,313 Useful Spells for Beginners_ , a clutch of pens, a collapsible telescope with beautiful brass fittings, and on and on until Septimus could barely hold onto it all.

"Marcia! Marcia, wait."

"What?" Marcia stopped with a pair of woolly socks in one hand and a comb in the other.

"This is all so great, but…" Septimus swallowed, almost lost his nerve, but forged on. "My parents have six other kids to look after, and I don't think they have much money, even if they are going to live in the Palace with Jenna when they come home. I'm not sure they can pay you back."

Marcia had started shaking her head at his first words, and now she cut him off completely. "Septimus, they don't have to pay me back. I didn't wait ten years for the right Apprentice only to neglect him once I found him. You didn't think your Apprentice Diary was all I was going to give you, did you?"

"N-no," said Septimus, who had thought pretty much exactly that. He had been issued drab regulation gear in the Young Army, but that had been different. "It's just…it's a lot."

"It's no more than you deserve, Septimus," Marcia said briskly. "Now, that's enough of that. Go put your things in your room, and then I'll teach you the **Fumigation** spell, and then I think a very late dinner. If I never have to eat one of Zelda's boiled cabbage concoctions again, it'll be too soon." She stacked the socks and comb on top of Septimus's pile, then stood up, grimacing because she was stiff from the cold floor.

Obediently, Septimus bore his burden through the door and dumped it down on the bed. Marcia winced as the neatly folded clothes spilled everywhere, but then she smiled again. Though she never would have admitted it, she had been as nervous about this new arrangement as Septimus; after living alone for so long, she hadn't been able to imagine sharing her quarters with another person, no matter how **Magykally** talented. Now that Septimus was here, though, she found herself looking forward to the prospect. It would be pleasant to hear him rattling around in his bedroom, to take him to the shops on Wizard Way, to hunt out interesting spells and charms for his edification—in short, to have someone to look after. She wanted to be as good a mentor to Septimus as Alther had been to her.

"I'm done," said Septimus, brushing off his hands as he returned to her. "There are really a _lot_ of spiders in there. All sizes, big ones and small ones. I counted ten just on the wall behind the bed."

"Well, we'll soon take care of that," Marcia said. "Right. I'll tell you the words of the **Fumigation** first, and then I want you to try it on your own. Ready?"

Septimus nodded and squared his shoulders-not that it made much difference, scrawny as he still was, but Marcia was touched by how seriously he was already taking his new job.

"Marcia?" He glanced up at her sidelong, from under the messy curtain of his newly grown hair.

"Yes?"

"Is this going to work out?"

"The **Fumigation**? Of course it is."

"Not the **Fumigation** ," said Septimus, "I mean-I mean everything."

"Yes," Marcia said firmly. "I have a good feeling about it. Now, listen and get ready to repeat after me..."


End file.
